


infinite and always.

by avatraang



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28057182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatraang/pseuds/avatraang
Summary: Aang comes and goes, and that is the hardest part.[On one of Aang’s returns home, Zuko confesses a grievance of his. Aang comforts him and admits some thoughts of his own. Zukaang. Oneshot. Established relationship.]
Relationships: Aang/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 60





	infinite and always.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OceanMyth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanMyth/gifts).



> The homie wants a Zukaang fic, and a Zukaang fic she will get!! She gave me a prompt from [this post,](https://avatraang.tumblr.com/post/636900726391586817/50-dialogue-prompts) which was #40: “I never stood a chance, did I?” This is my first time writing Zukaang – though I’ve shipped them for a very long time, I’ve never gotten around to writing them. Thanks for giving me an excuse, my friend! 
> 
> Listen to “Seasons” by 6lack and “Feeling Whitney” by Post Malone for ultimate vibes. “Seasons” is super Zukaang, imo. Without further ado, here’s a short lil established relationship Zukaang oneshot, ft. the ever popular hurt/comfort trope.

> “ _have you ever looked at someone and said  
>  ‘i could spend my whole life with ya’?  
> you're lucky the greatest thing i could do is marry you  
> 'cause if i could, i’d spill my blood  
> down to give you my last breath  
> the old me on his last stretch  
> i guess a new season's next.”_

**-6lack, _seasons._**

* * *

Aang comes and goes, and that is the hardest part.

Not falling in love with him, not being with him (that’s easy), not the way Zuko’s chest pangs painfully, lovingly, at every touch, every word spoken. Not the gossip that floats through the court, of how strange it is for the Firelord to take a man (Avatar or not) not just as his lover, but as his spouse, the whispers that make their way through any class of society. Not even the fact that he gets letters from everyone except Aang, because Aang doesn’t exactly have a place to receive mail when he’s traveling. No, none of that is as difficult as having Aang come, and watching him go.

The season is turning warm when Aang returns for a short spell. He’s been gone a while, almost two months. It’s a particularly stormy night. Rain pangs roughly against the windows in Zuko’s room, strong and unforgiving. Thunder and lightning crash close by, colliding and pulling apart like a tiring, never ending dance. Zuko is reminded of his days in banishment, climbing mountains and asking the storms to test him. _Dramatic,_ he thinks. Perhaps he would have excelled in theatre.

Now, as he stands by the window and places his ringed fingers on it, feeling the vibrations of the storm run up and down, Zuko prays to Agni that the night doesn’t cause too much damage. A shadow passing over the moon catches his attention. Through squinted eyes, he sees an imposing form fly low towards Zuko’s stables. There’s a circle of water surrounding them, like someone is bending the storm away. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who that someone is.

Making sure his robes are pulled tightly around him, Zuko flies out his room and down the mostly corridors of his palace, footsteps echoing around him. Aang wanders out of the kitchens just as Zuko pulls open the door, causing the two to very nearly collide. Zuko bites back a smile at Aang, who’s mouth is stuffed with a pastry. He’s completely dry, which would be odd if he wasn’t who he was. “You didn’t come in through the main entrance.” It’s stating the obvious, but it’s either that or Zuko acts a complete fool, and he’s not fond of the latter.

Aang shrugs, “This way is shorter.” After giving Zuko a kiss, Aang hands him a pastry, which Zuko takes without thinking about it. “Came from Jang Hui. It’s raining all the way from here to there.”

“Hurricane season's always so fun.” Zuko stops chewing, a sudden thought occurring to him. “You bent the rain away the whole time?”

Again, Aang shrugs, this time feigning nonchalance. As they walk down the hallways, Zuko can’t help think his tattoos look more tired than usual. Or maybe it’s just Aang. “Nah, nothing that serious. Just the last fifty miles. That’s when it got really bad, didn’t want Appa dealing with that.”

“ _Aang!”_ Zuko admonishes, “That _is_ serious. You’re exhausted, you should see a healer in the morning.”

He gives Zuko a look that says he’s being dramatic. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.” Aang yawns, wipes some bits of pastry from his mouth. “It’s times like that when I miss Katara.” He motions vaguely towards the rain still pounding outside. It's raining so hard, Zuko would be worried about Appa if the stables designed specifically for him weren't so safe and comfortable.

Zuko thinks of another time when lightning struck and how he should’ve died. How she saved him. “I miss her, too.” Their old friend is far away, working with her father to learn the ins and outs of leading a nation –The Southern Water Tribe, specifically. Aang opens the door to their room and walks in, Zuko trailing behind. He takes off his shirt and pads to the bathroom, door shutting with a soft click behind him. Zuko takes off his robe, left only in his pajamas, and climbs into the bed that is too big for just him but perfect for when Aang is home.

He’s still awake when Aang walks back out, clad only new, clean underwear. Aang climbs into bed and pulls Zuko close to him, as if he’s done it a hundred times. Which he has. Kissing the top of Zuko’s head, Aang tangles their limbs and reaches for his left hand. Runs his fingers over the wedding band that sits on the Firelord’s ring finger. “I missed you.” Aang’s voice is muffled in Zuko’s hair.

Zuko breathes out, easier than he’s done in months. “I missed you, too.”

He wants to stay up, to catch up with Aang, to talk, but they’ve both got early mornings tomorrow and Zuko always falls asleep quicker, better, when Aang is around. Their breathing slows at the same time, and Zuko can’t be sure, but he’d bet money on them falling asleep concurrently, too.

* * *

Aang is still asleep when Zuko leaves. He’s curled into himself, dreaming. Zuko sighs – the bending for fifty miles straight got to him more than Aang cared to admit. Still, Zuko doesn’t rub it in. Just makes sure breakfast is sent to their chambers and smiles when Aang walks into his study at around ten thirty in the morning. It's still raining outside, tired drops that fall quietly from the sky. Nothing like last night, but definitely still rain. It colors Aang pale, makes his tattoos look even brighter against his skin. “What are you doing?” Aang asks, taking perch at the edge of Zuko’s desk. He gives him a kiss in greeting, one that makes Zuko’s chest ache.

“Chief Arnook is being unreasonable about his conditions for resuming trade.” Zuko’s sigh comes out more tired than usual. Out of all the nations, the Northern Water Tribe took the most time in coming around to begin having relations with the Fire Nation again. Even after their sister tribe developed alliance with them, the Northern Water Tribe refused. Five years ago they’d finally accepted the olive branch Zuko extended them, but their conditions continued to rise, to the point where Zuko could not in good spirits allow the association to continue. “I don’t know what to do.” He admits.

Aang plays with the paper weight on Zuko’s desk. “Arnook’s sent word for me to visit.” He reveals. “A request. Something about the Spirit Oasis. It’s my next stop after this. I’ll talk to him when I go down there.”

Zuko feels his spirit fall further into sourness. “You’re leaving so soon?” Agitation bubbles. “You _just_ got back, you’ve been gone for two months.”

“I know. I’m not happy about this either, but you know how Spirit stuff is. I’ll be here for a week.” Aang tries to aim for the positive. “And then back before you know it for a month. Hopefully me helping Arnook will get him to calm down in regards to your issues.”

 _A month._ Zuko’s heard that one before, always said with the same hopeful smile. The same positivity that gives him both strength and irritation. Aang might be his best friend, his husband, his favorite person, his biggest source of joy, but his positive nature can get a little irritating sometimes, especially for someone as pessimistic as Zuko. He moves to make a joke, to say something light like, _“The turtle ducks will be back by then.”_ But all he can think is that the rest of the world sees Aang more than his own husband does, all he can think is that strangers enjoy Aang’s laughter while Zuko enjoys lonely nights. Zuko has always been a jealous man (indeed, it’s one of his most toxic traits), and he feels it bubble now, mixing with the sorrow that comes from being separated from your favorite person.

“I never stood a chance, did I?” The words tumble out without Zuko’s permission. He sets his quill down. Shuts out the image of the sadness that pinches Aang’s fine face.

Still, Aang is by his side quickly. Strong hands embrace him, resting on his heart as he presses his lips against Zuko’s temple. Aang doesn’t ask what Zuko means, doesn’t speak at all. That’s the thing about Aang – he always knows what to say, or when to say nothing at all. “I never stood a chance.” Zuko rubs the ring on his finger, opens his eyes to see the simple band that Aang has tattooed on his own left ring finger. “It is what it is, I guess.” He lifts his arms and grips Aang’s. “How can one man compete with the attention of two worlds?” Zuko looks down to see he’s spilled ink all over his response to Arnook. Oh, well. It was a letter full of bad news, anyway.

Aang presses his hands harder against Zuko’s heart before moving so he’s in front of him, eye to eye. When Aang speaks, there’s so much gravity to his tone that Zuko has to make sure his tattoos aren’t glowing. “You’re more than the world.” He runs a tired hand over his face. Often, Zuko wonders just what type of blessing the monks give their tattoos, because though Aang has aged ten years and some change, the tattoos are as vibrant as the day they met. That tiredness Zuko noted last night is still there, though. Not as bright as the joy, but still existent. It must have been an Aang thing.

“In a way it’s a good thing I have to be gone. A good thing the greatest thing I can do is marry you.” He runs a hand over his tattooed finger. “I’ve risked it all for you and I’d do it again. Probably too often if I was always home.” Aang’s eyes are weighted even more so than his words, a heavy gray that carries too many years. His face, already so handsome, so beautiful, looks a new level of cutting with the way his eyes darken.

Then, quite suddenly, they clear. The storm passes, the sun shines again, the Avatar that the rest of the world knows comes front and center. The monk full of weight that Zuko is privy to, disappears. Tucked away cleverly. “It’s not you that doesn’t stand a chance.” Aang’s delivery holds the same simple honestly he’s had since Zuko met him. “It’s the rest of the world. I try to end issues quickly, so I can come home. To you. Nobody stands in the way of me seeing you.” Aang grins, “Nobody stands a chance. I love you.” He says it so easily, assuredly. Zuko finds himself wondering why he ever felt so insecure in the first place.

He laughs, a little wetter than he intended, but Aang’s always made him a little more emotional than he’d like. His earlier anger melts away, leaving only fondness at the time he manages to get with Aang. It's precious and he knows it. He just wishes it wasn't so hard... though, Zuko supposes, all good things have their difficulties. “You’re so stupid.” Even as he says it, Zuko is leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you too.” Aang meets him in the middle – he tastes like sea salt, smells like rose petals.

“I’m only stupid for you.” Aang gives Zuko another quick kiss as he pulls away.

Zuko rolls his eyes, “You’re lucky I couldn’t find anyone else to put up with my bullshit.”

His husband lets out an easy laugh, “Oh-ho, is that what it was? Really? That’s weird, I recall someone confessing they loved me in front of everyone else while drunk as fuck and attempting to sing–”

“Okay, okay!” Zuko scrambles to clamp Aang’s mouth shut. “Doesn’t change the fact I captured you.” He jokes. In response, Aang very maturely licks Zuko’s hand. Zuko yelps, tearing his hand away and wiping the saliva on his robes. _“Ew,_ you’re disgusting.”

A shit-eating grin manifests itself on Aang’s face. It’s at home on his features, the smile lines familiar. “You like it.”

“I do _not.”_ Zuko makes a face. “Nasty.” Aang winks –five seconds later Zuko goes crimson at realizing the implication behind the joke Aang’s made. _“Agni,_ you’re _insufferable.”_ He groans woe-fully, pulling out a new piece of parchment to begin his letter to Chief Arnook. Considering Aang is leaving in a week, he’ll just send it with him.

But Aang distracts him. Hoisting Zuko up to his feet, Aang walks into his personal space. A whole head above him, Aang looks down at Zuko with a smug look. Kissing him sweetly, Aang pulls the top knot out of Zuko’s hair easily. He melts into him, running his hands up Aang’s strong arms. Huskily, Aang whispers into his ear. “Am I still insufferable?”

Zuko glares. Kisses him so hard Aang looks dizzy when he pulls away. _“Yes.”_

“That’s fair.” Aang responds, breathless. Which is funny, considering he can bend air. Then he’s kissing him again, beautifully, and all Zuko can think about is them, is this moment.

Aang comes and goes, and that is the hardest part, but when he is here it is so sweet, so beatific, that it makes him going just the right amount of bearable. Seasons may change, time forever ticks on, yet they are forever. Infinite and always.

The letter to Chief Arnook doesn’t get written that day. Zuko can’t bring himself to mind.

* * *

> “ _a_ _nd_ _i_ _'ve been looking for someone to put up with my bullshit  
> _ _i_ _can't even leave my bedroom so_ _i_ _keep pouring  
> _ _a_ _nd_ _i_ _ain't seen a light of day since, well, that's not important  
> _ _i_ _t's been long.”_

**-** **post malone,** _**feeling whitney.** _


End file.
